“Good gravy, look at the cars.”
Farrin looked out the windshield at the Extension parking lot. Had the entire town showed up for her speech? “I take it this is more than your normal attendance.”
“I’ll say. Guess we have a lot of guests today.”
In another town, Farrin would be flattered. But she had the sinking suspicion that the building was filled with those curious to see what kind of person poor little Farrin Taylor grew up to be. She took a deep breath. She’d gotten through the reunion speech unscathed. What could a bunch of little old ladies do to her?
Farrin followed Faye inside and instantly was swallowed by a sea of grandmas greeting her like a long-lost friend.
“Oh my, you’ve grown up to be a pretty girl.”
“It’s so good to have you back in Oak Valley.”
“Thanks so much for coming to speak to us this morning.”
“Can you autograph this magazine for my daughter?” The woman holding out the Modern Bride magazine looked familiar.
“Mrs. Franklin?”
“Yes, dear.”
It was odd to see her former geography teacher look so shy. And because of her? That was too silly for words. Farrin leaned toward her. “Would you believe I visited Ayers Rock last year?”
The older woman’s eyes widened, and then she chuckled. “I take it you know where it is now.”
“Yes, and it’s beautiful. Did you ever go?”
The light in Mrs. Franklin’s eyes dimmed. “No, I’m afraid not.”
Farrin hated the look of sorrow in the woman’s eyes. She’d been one of her favorite teachers, both because she was nice and because in her class Farrin had learned about the world beyond the Tennessee mountains. As they’d studied the Great Wall of China, Stonehenge and Easter Island, Farrin’s imagination had run wild.
Farrin looked at the magazine cover showcasing one of her gown designs. She tried to picture Mrs. Franklin’s daughter, Carla, who’d been a year behind her in school.
“So, how is Carla?”
“Fine. She’s an interior designer in Atlanta. She wants to frame this cover and put it in her shop.”
Carla had been the epitome of shy in high school. It was hard to imagine her working with people on their drapes and furniture coverings.
One after another, ladies came up to shake her hand, to ask how she liked New York and to tell her what their children and grandchildren were doing. To Farrin, many of the names equated to photos in her senior yearbook. She hadn’t seen them since then, and from the looks of some of the snapshots shown to her she wouldn’t have known her classmates if she passed them on the street.
“Everyone, let’s take our seats so we can start today’s program,” Faye said. “I know you’re all anxious to hear Farrin, but we need to take care of a little business before we turn the podium over to her.”
As the ladies conducted their business meeting, Farrin leaned against the wall and scanned the crowd. She picked out the regulars, at least the ones who’d been club members as long as Faye. Even more obvious were a few curiosity-seekers, women who looked like they might not know a spatula from a whisk. Her eyes settled on a lady in a silky brown and orange pantsuit, her hair cut more stylishly than the other ladies her age and wearing too much makeup. Jewel Carlisle, Janie’s mother and owner of The Dress Shoppe on Main Street. Bile rose in Farrin’s throat. She tried not to wince as she swallowed against it.
A flash of herself, age fourteen, standing in front of the shop’s display window nearly choked Farrin. She still remembered the pink and white dress on the mannequin, the way she’d yearned to wear it, to feel the fabric. It had taken two weeks of walking by that window and Tammie dragging her into the store before her bubble had been burst for good.
As soon as they’d walked in the store, she’d loved the smell of new clothes that greeted her. She wanted to spend the entire day trying on all those dresses and cute little outfits, admiring herself in the full-length mirrors in the back. Her hand had shaken as she grasped the price tag and turned it over. Tears had popped into her eyes. She knew how much her mother’s paycheck was, and that outfit would consume almost an entire week’s pay.
“Can I help you girls?”
Farrin could still hear the tone in Mrs. Carlisle’s voice when she’d asked that question, a forced smile on her face. She might as well have said, “Don’t get anything dirty. You can’t afford to pay for it.”
It had been all Farrin could do not to run out of the store. Instead, she’d said, “No, thank you, ma’am. We were just looking,” and walked out the door as proudly as she could manage. And she’d never stepped foot inside again. But she’d vowed to have a dress like that one day. No, one even better.
The past faded away as Farrin realized the ladies had moved on to their last item of business.
“So if you can have your quilt squares finished and to me by Thursday of next week, we’ll get started putting the quilt together. It should be ready in plenty of time for the fire department craft show.”
Faye shuffled some papers off the podium. “Now, what you’ve all been waiting for. I’d like to introduce Farrin Taylor, who has come from New York City to address us today. I don’t need to tell you how well Farrin is doing, but it’s nice to see a successful young woman who is still as sweet as pie. Farrin.”
The attendees broke out in generous applause, and Farrin found herself smiling back at all the genuine smiles in the crowd. As she talked about how she’d gotten started designing and the day-to-day operations of her business, a great sense of pride blossomed inside her.
“Do you think you’ll ever design a line of less expensive dresses?” asked a woman she didn’t recognize.
“I haven’t thought about it, but I don’t rule out anything that could be a good business decision.”
“What is it like working with the president’s daughter? Have you been to the White House?” This from Opal Baker, Faye’s best friend.
“She is very nice, just like she appears on television. And no, I’ve not been to the White House. Ms. Hutton comes to New York for consultations and fittings. But I’ll likely go to Washington right before the wedding for any last minute adjustments.”
The questions went on for several minutes until Faye indicated it was time to dismiss. As when she’d arrived, the women surrounded Farrin to offer their thanks for her presentation. Had she ever received such a warm and enthusiastic welcome?
She spent a few moments talking with a young reporter for The Oak Valley Herald. When she finished the interview, she took a deep breath and snagged a glass of water to relieve her dry throat.
“Farrin, it’s good to see you back in town.”
Farrin’s stomach tightened at the sound of the voice. Jewel Carlisle had never actually done anything to her, but with mere looks she’d always managed to make her feel like trailer trash. Well, she wasn’t trailer trash now. She wondered if it felt awkward for Mrs. Carlisle, standing there knowing that Farrin had more money than her — a shop owner and the bank president’s wife.
“Mrs. Carlisle, how kind of you to come this morning,” Farrin said, proud of herself that no detectable sarcasm dripped off her words.
“I wouldn’t have missed it. It’s not every day that a top designer comes to Oak Valley. And to have it be one of our own is extra nice. You’ve come so far. It’s hard to believe you’re the same girl.” It wasn’t the words themselves that burned Farrin, it was the thinly veiled condescension in Jewel’s voice when she said them.
Farrin kept her professional smile pasted on her face despite the backhanded compliment. Of all the people she’d met since coming back to town, Jewel Carlisle was the only one who’d even hinted at her past. She shouldn’t be surprised, but the kindness of all the women this morning had lulled her into thinking maybe she’d been too harsh in her assessment of her hometown.
“It proves hard work pays off. Do you still own that little shop, what was it called?”
Jewel’s smile faltered. “The Dress Shoppe. Yes, we’re celebrating our thirtieth anniversary this year.” She paused and seemed to regain the composure that had slipped. “That’s actually why I wanted to talk with you. Do you have time for lunch?”
“I have plans.”
“Oh. Well then, I thought it would be nice to celebrate our anniversary and the success of a hometown girl by putting a display of some of your latest designs in the front window.”
She had to be kidding. Farrin wasn’t fooled. Jewel wanted to use the display to get people into her store, to make customers think she was friends with a famous designer. It had nothing to do with showcasing a hometown success story.
“Interesting idea. I’ll pass it along to my staff.” Not in this lifetime. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to go.”
She turned and walked away, confident her posture was no longer the slouching, trying-to-hide kind she’d exhibited the last time Jewel Carlisle had deigned to look her way. She found Faye and put her arm lightly on the older woman’s shoulders.
“I’m going to meet Tammie for lunch.”
“Okay, just a moment and I’ll get my purse.”
“No, you stay and visit with your friends. I’ll walk. It’s a beautiful day, and I’ll enjoy the fresh air.”
Faye looked at Farrin’s feet. “You’re going to walk to the drugstore in those shoes?”
Farrin stuck out one of her feet. “Oh honey, these are nothing. These are everyday shoes. You should see the devils I wore to the Oscars last year.”
“Suit yourself. You girls have fun.”
Even though she’d actually enjoyed seeing some of the familiar faces and basking in the good Southern kindness, she was glad to escape the noise of the room and the cloying smell of old-lady perfume. Many of the women didn’t wear perfume on a daily basis, so when they did they tended to overdo it. Still, they were charming and fun in their Aunt Bea sort of way.
Farrin took a deep, cleansing breath when she stepped outside. The air smelled like fallen leaves, and the hint of a breeze brought the woodsy scent of the high ridges down to her. Much better than the stench of cab exhaust.
Her heels clicked on the sidewalk as she headed back toward downtown through the historic district. Giant oaks, elms and maples lined the street and shaded the lawns of the stately homes. She imagined ladies in long dresses sitting on the wrap-around porches sipping homemade lemonade and watching their children play croquet. She wondered if those ladies had looked down their noses at kids from the farms or shacks higher up in the mountains. Hadn’t she heard her mother speculate as much endless times? Maybe it was true, maybe not. Not all wealthy people were mean and condescending.
It didn’t matter now anyway. Those ladies and that more genteel time were gone. All that remained was a little, forgotten town on the road to nowhere.
Even so, it was a pretty town. She stopped as she emerged from the historic district at the edge of downtown. The courthouse had survived the Civil War intact, not something many of the surrounding counties could boast. The brick buildings lining the square had the year they were built etched in stone at the roofline — 1826, 1840, 1862. Along with the courthouse, they’d survived mainly because this area of the state had sided with the Union during the Civil War.
As she walked along the courtsquare, she returned two phone calls. When she ended the second call, she glanced at her watch and picked up her pace.
She rounded the corner onto Main Street and headed for the drugstore. Just past the courthouse, she paused again, this time in front of the old Ivy Springs Inn. Her heart squeezed. She couldn’t believe how alone and neglected the two-story Federal style building looked now. When she’d been young, it had captured her imagination.
Farrin hadn’t been inside since she was five, but she’d dreamed of those endless rooms, filled with antiques and a feeling of Revolutionary times. During her childhood, her grandparents had operated it as a hotel. After their deaths, three months apart, the struggling hotel had gone through several ownership changes. Now, it sat with a tattered “For Sale” sign tacked to the front door.
Farrin crossed the street and read the asking price. She ran her hand over the familiar carved ivy on the door, marveling at the simplistic but beautiful design. Kind of like her dresses.
She looked down the street, at the residents coming in and out of the courthouse, an older woman leaving the Merchants Bank with a scarf tied under her chin. The town wasn’t only old, it felt old. There wasn’t much youth or vitality. No wonder no one wanted to stay in a hotel here. Other than hiking in the mountains, what was there to do or see? Sadness washed over her. How many towns were there like this, ones hanging on by their fingernails before the winds of change blew them off the map?
And why did she care?
Because despite her bitter feelings toward people like Janie and her parents, some good people like Faye and Opal had called Oak Valley home their entire lives.
She returned her attention to the building. And before she and her mother had moved to Oak Valley, this had seemed like a magical place where her grandma baked her oatmeal chocolate chip cookies and her grandpa let her “help” around the inn. She smiled at the memory of checking in a guest when she hadn’t even been as tall as the counter.
She walked to the edge of the inn and looked over the low brick wall into what had once been the immaculate courtyard. Now it looked dead and forgotten with overgrown flowerbeds and iron furniture that needed new paint. People had even used the area as their personal trash can. Three bags from fast food restaurants lay next to the far wall where the wind had blown them.
Farrin wished she could pack up the building and take it with her. She imagined how displays of her work would look in the rooms, how weddings could be held in the restored courtyard.
With a sigh, Farrin moved away from the wall and resumed her trek toward the drugstore. Her stomach growled as she pulled open the store’s front door and heard the tinkle of the little silver bell that still announced the arrival of customers. She spotted Tammie in one of the three red vinyl booths below the giant Coca-Cola mirror.
“How did it go?” Tammie asked as Farrin slid into the booth opposite her.
“Fine, better than I expected.”
“Did you think the bluehairs were going to attack?”
Farrin laughed. “Not exactly. It’s just . . . been a long time since I’ve been here.”
“And you were worried that everything would be the same as it always was before.”
“Something like that.” Farrin looked around the drugstore. It had been spiffed up, but the feeling and atmosphere remained. The black-and-white checked floor and red stools at the counter now co-existed with an expresso machine and a low-carb menu. “It does feel like a bit of a time warp here.”
“Things change, even if they don’t look like it at first glance.”
“I guess.” She looked back at Tammie, who’d tamed her bed head since she’d seen her a few hours ago. “Listen, I owe you an apology for not staying in touch better. I’ve been so incredibly busy, I can’t see straight.”
“Is that really the reason, Farrin? That you’re too busy?”
Farrin looked into Tammie’s eyes and knew that not only was she lying to her friend, she was lying to herself. She opened her mouth, but no words came out.
Tammie sighed. “You know, I can understand wanting to leave some things in the past, but you don’t have to forget everything. Not everything or everyone was awful.”
“I know that.” She did, really. But somehow everything associated with Oak Valley, even the good things, had become wrapped up in one tight ball she’d wanted to forget. She spun the sweaty glass of water in front of her.
A waitress came to the table and took their orders. Farrin tacked on a large chocolate milkshake in one of the frosty mugs to her chicken sandwich.
“I’ve got to get back to New York before I gain twenty pounds.”
“They got you eating tofu and sp
routs? You’re so skinny.”
“Hardly.”
“No really, you look like you’re not taking care of yourself.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Don’t get me wrong, you’re as beautiful as ever, but you look tired and overworked.”
“That’s just the way things are.”
“They don’t have to be. You’re a successful woman. You can stand to take a break.”
Farrin sighed. “It’s not that simple.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve got bills to pay. Can you up and leave your business anytime you want to?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
“It’s not the same.” Tammie’s employees knew how to bake her signature cakes. Justine wasn’t going to be sketching fantail gowns anytime soon.
“Why?” Suspicion laced Tammie’s question.
“It’s not because my business is more important than yours, so get that thought right out of your head.”
“Did I say anything?”
“You didn’t have to. You got those lines on your forehead.”
“I don’t have lines on my forehead,” Tammie said as the lines disappeared.
Farrin stifled a smile. “You do know I can read your emotions like a paperback novel, don’t you? Even if I have been a crappy friend and not seen you in forever.”
Tammie exhaled in mock disgust. “Yes, you’re very annoying.”
Farrin couldn’t hold in her laugh any longer. “It really is good to see you. And I really am sorry.”
Farrin expected Tammie to wave off the apology, to make light of it. That she didn’t told Farrin the relationship wasn’t totally mended. She would do better. Wasn’t that what cell phones and e-mail were for?
Dress Me in Wildflowers Page 7
